Chapter Elven

Myia

The air is tense as Jake stands there, that boyish grin twisted into something unrecognizable. I hate this moment, the hurt in his eyes. It was over the second Sergio touched me, the moment I let my heart stray. My palms are sweaty, but I take a deep breath to steady myself.

“Jake, we can’t be together anymore. I met someone,” I say, each word heavy with the weight of what’s about to break.

His face goes red, shock morphing into fury. “What are you saying? That you cheated on me?”

“ I-I’m sorry. I—” I’m cut off as he drags me inside, slamming the door behind us.

“Sorry for being a whore?” he spits, his voice dripping with venom.

I deserve that. I have never seen him like this.

He never spoke to me like that.

“Jake, I am falling in love. We should have just stayed friends. You don’t belong in my world.” I try to keep my voice steady.

But my heart is racing, fear creeping in.

He slams his fist into the wall, the sound reverberating through the room, and I’ve never seen this look in his eyes before—like a storm ready to break. He steps closer, pinning me against the wall, his breath hot and threatening.

“You always underestimate me, thinking I’m weak. You have no idea who I am or what I can do. You think you can walk away?”

His hand wraps around my throat, tight and unforgiving, and I can barely breathe. “I’m not letting you go.”

Panic surges as I claw at his hand, gasping for air. “Jake, please,” I choke out, fear clawing at my insides. “This isn’t you!”

But his rage only intensifies, and the boy I once knew feels like a distant memory. “You think you can play with my heart? I won’t let you leave me.”

The room closes in around us, charged with anger and heartbreak. I’m trapped, but I refuse to back down.

“You don’t own me,” I say, shaking but defiant. “You’re better than this. We can end this without destroying each other.”

Silence hangs in the air, thick with unresolved emotions. I cling to the hope that beneath the anger, a part of him still remembers what love felt like. But the danger is accurate, and I know I must find a way out before it spirals further out of control.

I feel a moment of weakness and instinctively bring my knee up, catching him squarely in the balls. His grip on my throat loosens, and I seize the chance to bolt. But just as I think I’m free, a sharp sting rips through my scalp as he yanks me back by my hair. Panic surges through me—I need to figure something out.

I spot the bathroom ahead, a glimmer of hope in the chaos. I slip from his grip, sprinting into the small space and slamming the door shut behind me. I lock it and brace my back against the cool wood, my heart pounding like a war drum.

“Help! Jake is pissed off! I think he wants to kill me!” I gasp into my phone, my voice trembling.

Sergio’s voice bursts through, laced with concern and urgency. “Where the fuck are you?”

“His house! Locked in the bathroom! Get here!” I plead, my breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

I hear Jake’s footsteps thud closer, his voice dripping with fury. “You think you can just run away? Open this door!”

A cold chill runs down my spine. I glance around the tiny bathroom, searching for a weapon, a way out. The adrenaline rushes through me, fueling my determination. I won’t let him have me. I need to fight.

“Stay the fuck in there! Hold him off!” Sergio’s voice is a lifeline, a command that urges me to stay strong.

“I will try,” I whisper, my voice strained as I brace myself against the door.

Jake pounds on it relentlessly, each hit echoing like thunder in the small bathroom. I remember the club is only ten minutes away. We dropped Sergio off before coming here, and everyone knows Jake. That’s why my guard was comfortable letting me come alone.

“Myia! Open the fucking door! I’m sorry!” His voice is a twisted mix of fury and desperation.

“No, not to you. Calm down so we can talk. I love you,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, hoping to reach the part of him that still cares.

But all I hear in response is more pounding, more rage. The air grows thick with tension, and my heart races faster. Then, I listen to voices outside—familiar ones.

I hesitate for just a moment, then slowly crack the door open. That’s when I see Sergio, fists flying, landing blow after blow on Jake. Rage and adrenaline fuel him; he wants to kill him.

“Guys, don’t kill him! Please!” I plead, stepping out into the chaos, desperation coloring my voice. My dad is there, too, reaching for a gun, ready to escalate this nightmare.

“Myia, go with Ace.” Sergio demands.

“Stop! Just stop!” I shout, my heart pounding as I try to pull everyone back from the brink.

The fear of Jake being killed because of me and my choices overwhelms me, and I know I have to do something before it all spirals out of control. I take a deep breath, standing between them, my heart racing with the moment’s weight.

“This isn’t how it ends! We can figure this out!”

“Take her now,” Sergio says authoritatively.

Ace drags me out. I don’t know what is going to happen.

I’m not sure how long we’ve been waiting. They come out.

Dad brings me in for a hug. “We let him live for now. He won’t hurt you again.”

I am relieved they didn’t kill him. The door opens as I get into the car. Dad follows as Sergio comes in on the other side of me. I can feel the anger radiating off him. I am relieved when we pull into my house. We get out, and I walk fast to the house.

“Myia, we talked to Sergio, and it’s best if you stay with Sergio. Fiona and your brother will be leaving for a safer place. His other house is more secure.” Those words hit me like a fright train.

“Papa.”

Chapter Twelve

Myia

“Papa .” My voice trembles, a mix of defiance and fear. “I want to fight it.”

Sergio stands there, a smile on his lips that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and I can feel the tension radiating off him. “I will keep her safe, take good care of her,”

“Love you, pumpkin,” father whispers, pulling me into a tight hug. I cling to him, desperate for comfort, for reassurance.

“Love you. Promise they are coming?” I ask, my heart racing with worry.

“Promise,” he replies, his voice steady as he walks toward the door, but uncertainty lingers like a shadow.

Once back in the vehicle, the air thickens with unspoken words. Sergio’s mood shifts, and he turns to me, his expression hardening.

“You didn’t listen. Next time I say go, you need to follow directions. You know better.” His words hit me like a slap, stinging and sharp.

“I am not a child,” I shoot back, but the edge in my voice falters. “Jake was hurt. I cheated. I don’t want him dead because of me.” The weight of my guilt crushes me, each word heavy with regret.

“Jake isn’t as innocent as you thought. His family has ties to the fucking Russians. You think that will be forgiven?” Sergio’s jaw clenches, his frustration palpable.

“Sorry,” I manage to whisper, feeling the sting of his anger mix with my turmoil. I never wanted this. I never wanted to be caught in a web of danger and deceit, yet here I am.

“You will be.” He says harshly.

We pull into his driveway, a house I had never seen before. The car comes to a stop, and we open the door and get out. I follow him close to the door.

“Can I take a bath? I am tired. You can punish me later.” I sigh.

“Take your bath. I will join. You are not getting out of spanking.” He growls

I follow him up the stairs. He starts the water. I am drained from today’s events. He comes over, helping me undress and caring for me. He kisses me on the cheek. I step in, sinking into the water with a sigh. He is undressing and getting in; he looks exhausted.

“I’m Sorry, Kitty. I’m stressed,” he says, closing his eyes.

“I understand; it’s been a day,” I say with a warm smile.

“You know I don’t permanently live here. We would move back to Italy. I love you, and I know I would be asking for a big sacrifice from you to leave with me and come to another country. You have to trust me like I have to trust you.” Sergio says this passionately, and I feel he is telling the truth.

“I will go with you; we need to figure this out: things we haven’t discussed, like when we’re telling my dad? Do you want more kids?” I ask as husceyes open.

“I want more, maybe three more. Do you want kids? We will tell your dad soon,” he reassures me.

“I never thought much about kids. We haven’t been using protection; there is a risk. You know, I can’t take control of both.” I say remaining, it’s possible I could be right now.

“It’s a risk I am willing to take, you feel too good, I will never wear a condom,” he says with a grin.

I trust him, and maybe that’s reckless, but love is a wild ride, and I’m fully strapped in. This is all happening so fast, and I feel like I’m falling hard—harder than I ever imagined. I’ve loved him since I was sixteen, and it’s like I’ve overdosed on this man; the feelings are intoxicating, and I don’t care about the consequences. I want it all—the laughter, the late-night talks, the dreams we’ll share.

But there’s this looming reality: if we’re going to be together, I’ll have to move, and that scares me. One big test is Oliva. I can’t shake the feeling that she won’t just step aside for Sergio. That thought gnaws at me, but I’m ready to face whatever storms come our way. This love is overwhelming, and I’m willing to embrace the chaos. With him, I want to dive into the unknown, to take this leap, and to believe that together we can conquer anything—even the shadows that threaten to pull us apart.

“You really think Oliva will just let you walk away?” I say, my voice wavering as I picture her finding out about us. “When she learns the truth, she’s going to lose it.”

He brushes off my worries with a confident smirk, pulling me closer. “I’m not worried about her. Right now, it’s just us. Let’s focus on what we have.”

“I love you,” I say softly.

“Promise me you’ll remember that, Kitty.” He growls the words, his voice filled with a raw power that makes my heart race.

“I will. I promise,” I reply, a smile creeping onto my face, feeling the weight of his words sink in.

“Good,” he says, his voice dripping with authority. “Because I’m going to fuck you like I own you, make you beg for more. Don’t think I forgot your attitude earlier. Bad girls get punished.”

His chuckle sends a surge of excitement through me, and I can’t help but shiver at the promise in his gaze. It’s intoxicating, the way he leans in closer, wrapping me in a bubble where nothing else matters. In this moment, it’s just us, tangled in a mix of desire and tension, and I can’t help but want more.

I am tired of his punishment. I will have to wait until tomorrow.

Chapter Thirteen

Sergio

“Fuck, Kitty, I need you,” I growl, my voice low and demanding, filled with a hunger I can barely contain.

“Sergio,” she responds, her voice sultry, igniting a fire within me.

I watch, entranced, as she takes me into her mouth, her rhythm flawless. Her tongue swirls around my cock, teasing and tantalizing. Each movement sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body, and I can feel the world around us fading away.

Her hands grip my ass, nails digging in, a delicious pain that makes me growl. I feel her other hand exploring, teasing between my cheeks until—without warning—her finger slips inside me. I should stop her, but the pleasure is intoxicating. I can’t deny it; she’s making me see colors dance behind my eyes.

“Kitty, fuck, what are you doing to me?” I rasp, my voice thick with desire.

She’s unlocking sensations I never knew existed, pulling me deeper into an abyss of ecstasy. I tell myself there will never be more than a finger, but her mouth is working magic on me, and I can’t hold back.

I grip her hair tightly, guiding her as I thrust into her mouth, feeling her gag slightly, yet she never falters. The pleasure builds, an electric current zinging through me, and my body jerks as I reach a peak I never want to end.

My hot cum fills her mouth, and as I pull out, I watch her wipe her lips with the back of her hand, a sly smile gracing her face.

“Sergio, I love you,” she whispers, and those words strike me deep, igniting a fierce protectiveness.

I stand her up, slamming her against the wall, and my lips find her neck, kissing softly as I trail down to her stomach. Lifting her leg over my shoulder, I dive into her pussy like a man starved for her sweetness. I can feel the heat radiating from her, and every lick and every thrust of my fingers inside her is a testament to my devotion.

I worship her, tasting her essence, reveling in how she responds to my touch. No one else will ever love her like I do, and no one else can make her feel this way. My tongue works with purpose, pressing against her clit as I thrust deep inside her, coaxing her closer to the edge.

She grips my hair, pulling me closer, and I know she’s teetering on the brink. I drink in every drop of her wetness as she rides my face, lost in the pleasure I’m giving her. She was made for me, and every moment we share solidifies our unbreakable bond.

“Sergio, shit!” she screams.

Her voice is a melody of pure ecstasy as she rides my face, lost in her pleasure. Myia is climaxing, her body quaking as her juices flood down my throat. I can’t get enough; I want her to let go even more for me, to feel that bliss wash over her again.

At that moment, our connection deepens, and I can feel the love coursing through us. I pull away, spinning her around effortlessly, aligning myself with her as I thrust deep into her tight, inviting warmth. I throw my head back, losing myself in the paradise that is her body. She is marvelous, and every thrust feels right. This was never wrong; she is my mate, and that truth is unshakeable.

With each powerful thrust, I slam my palm down on her ass, watching it turn red as I fuck her hard. Her moans blend with the sound of my skin meeting hers, a symphony of pleasure that fills the room. Myia owns my soul, mind, and body; she doesn’t even realize the power she holds over me.

“Kitty, cum for me, milk my big fucking cock,” I growl, my voice thick with need.

“Sergio, I am—fuck!” she cries out, lost to the waves of pleasure crashing over her.

We’re both drowning in bliss, our names echoing off the walls, accompanied by moans and growls that reflect our primal connection. I fill her up with my cum, a rush of satisfaction that sends shivers through me.

I grip her neck gently, pulling her close as I lean in to kiss her hard, sealing our intimacy. We’ve overdosed on each other, lost in this intoxicating love. I’m high on her, and I realize I will do anything to keep her safe, even if it means begging—something I’ve never done before.

“I love you, Myia. Please move in with me. You felt it, too; our souls connected. I’ve overdosed on you, and I will do it over and over,” I say, my voice laced with urgency.

“I will go with you. I know I can’t live without you, Sergio. I overdosed on you as well. I am yours,” she replies, her eyes shining with sincerity.

As we settle down to watch a movie, I can’t help but feel the overwhelming need to have her again. I fuck her once more, lost in the endless cycle of passion. I can never get enough of her. I was meant to punish her.

“We need to figure out when to tell your father and everyone else. Go shower. I need to go to a meeting.” I have things to deal with,” I say, leaning in and kissing her.

“Be safe,” Myia says as she leaves to shower.

I have her scent on me; I want it left on me. I get dressed, putting myself together. I walk out, knowing I am to shut off all feelings and be the man I was made to be in this cold world. I make it to my car. I have a feeling in my gut that shit is going to be going down.

Chapter Fourteen

Sergio

I arrive at the warehouse, ready for what lies ahead. Four men sit in chairs, their bravado stripped away as they realize their fate. Uncle Matteo stands tall, exuding menace, while my father, though shaky, still commands respect. Ace and Mario are here, too, ready to unleash chaos. We’re all in this together, prepared to shed blood

“Who killed Albero? Don’t be shy now, boys. You’ll see the devil soon, but it won’t be quick,” Matteo spits, venom lacing his words.

He steps toward the first man without hesitation, silencing him with a swift cut to his throat. His gurgling breath fills the space, and my father chuckles, twisted satisfaction evident on his face. I can’t help but think he needs this more than I do. Ace and I approach the second man, a predator, and his prey. Ace takes his time, cutting off a finger. The man howls in agony, begging for mercy, but it’s pathetic. Real men don’t pray—they fight or fall.

“Tell me what I want to know. I’ll make it quick,” Matteo demands, his voice dripping with authority.

“They put a hit on you all. We will kill every one of you filthy Sicilians and the fucking Irish for betraying us. I fucking killed your son. I enjoyed it. This is a brotherhood, and I will never give you what you want,” he snarls defiantly before Matteo’s fist crashes into his face, silencing him.

I pull the trigger on the last two, ending their suffering. This is war, and they wanted it. The Russians will learn who the real power is; the Sicilians are the biggest mafia in the world—there’s no denying it.

As we prepare to dispose of the bodies, I know one must be left behind.

“I want that one sent to the Russians. Carve ‘WAR’ into his chest. Let them know what’s coming.” The fire of vengeance burns within me.

My thoughts shift to Myia. She’s now a target, and keeping her close is non-negotiable.

I’m washing up when Papa storms in, shutting the door and locking it behind him.

“Figure shit out fast with Myia. This means she’s now a target. You’re claiming her, you fucking asshole,” he hisses, his tone harsh, low enough for only us to hear.

“Settle down before your blood pressure goes up,” I smirk, unfazed. His worry doesn’t scare me; it fuels me.

“Handle it,” he commands before unlocking the door. We head towards where Uncle Matteo is waiting with the others.

“Fucking glad you got revenge on our boy. This made me feel young again,” Papa says, clapping Matteo on the back, pride evident in his voice.

This is our world, and we will carve our legacy into it. The bloodbath is just beginning, and I’m ready to claim my place as Alpha. I must return to Myia for dinner; she’s my anchor in this storm. Soon, we’ll have to share the house with Fiona and Mav, and I need to set them up in a safe home. Guilt gnaws at me for not telling Mario, but now isn’t the time for distractions.

“Get your shit together; we don’t need to be fighting each other,” Uncle Matteo warns, his voice low but firm.

“Seems you’ve been talking to Papa. I know what the fuck I’m doing,” I snap, shaking my head.

They’re right; the last thing we need is a war between Mario and me, tearing our family apart. My resolve hardens. I will protect Myia and stand firm against any threat. This is just the beginning, and I will rise to meet it, no matter the cost. I sit in the office, and we all have drinks and cigars. I don’t smoke them often. Once in a while, I want to smoke one. My downfall is Myia and this amber liquid that goes down smoothly.

“We need to go to war soon and get this over with before they attack again,” Uncle Matteo said, his authority unmistakable.

“I have everything in the works,” I replied, holding my ground. I was still the boss here and wouldn’t let them forget it.

“There’s a lot of shit that needs to be handled,” Papa warned, his tone heavy with concern.

“I’m the fucking Don. I built this empire. I will handle it.” My voice was low and harsh, cutting through their doubts.

I’d spent my life showing respect, but I was done with their pressure, especially regarding Myia. This war weighed me, and they thought I didn’t know what was at stake.

I might come off as a cold monster to some, but I was human. These were people I loved, and their lives were on the line. The thought of losing my best friend, my brother, over my feelings for his daughter was eating me alive. I had to navigate this chaos carefully, but the stress was relentless, and I was ready to unleash hell if that’s what it took to protect what was mine.

“I need to go. Myia is working from home. What time are Fiona and Mav coming so we can go over everything and make a plan for the safe house?” It came out harshly.

“Around eight. Myia knows how to shoot. I taught her some self-defense. She is not helpless. I think she and Fiona should have protection.” Mario says harshly, and we’re all on edge.

“Si,” I say, getting up.

When I finish the day, I have a few hours of Myia.

Chapter Fifteen

Sergio:

Myia steps into the room in a sheer purple nightgown that clings to her curves. The black heels accentuate her legs, making my heart race. Her smile ignites something profound within me, a fire that’s impossible to resist. Suddenly, she’s on me, pushing me back onto the bed, her fingers tracing the ink on my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

She leans in, her mouth teasing my nipple, alternating between soft licks and biting, making me gasp.

“Fuck, Kitty, I want you,” I moan, lost in the heat of the moment.

“It’s not about what you want. This is about what I want,” she replies, her voice dripping with seduction.

My own words echo back to me as she takes control.

Myia’s mouth travels down my chest, teasingly slow, fingers inching towards my boxers. With a swift motion, she pulls them down, leaving me exposed and ready. She licks the tip of my cock, her gaze locked onto mine, and I feel the fire inside me intensify. I shut my eyes, but the moment doesn’t last long as she leaves for a moment, and I’m left wondering what she has planned.

When she returns, a playful smile dances on her lips, and I see the rope in her hands. I can’t help but return her sly grin as she ties my wrists to the bed, surrendering my control, but I welcome it. The thrill of the unknown sends a rush through me.

“Kitten, you can do it harder,” I growl, my voice low and primal.

She delivers a sharp sting with my belt, and to my surprise, I revel in the pain. It’s a strange mix of pleasure and torment, igniting every nerve in my body. I feel her warmth as she straddles my face, her sweet scent enveloping me. My mouth is on fire as I taste her. Every moan that escapes her lips fuels my desire.

I can sense her pleasure building, the way her body responds to every flick of my tongue. She’s close, and I know she’s losing herself in the moment, just as I am. In this tangled dance of pain and ecstasy, we are bound together, bodies igniting in a blaze of passion, each moment pulling us deeper into the abyss of our desires.

“Fuck my face, just like that, Kitty,” I growl, the heat of our moment still coursing through me.

Myia’s rhythm quickens, her moans filling the air as I dive deeper, craving that power over her. She climaxes hard, and I swallow every bit of her pleasure, the taste igniting something primal within me.

As she slowly gets off me, sinking on my cock, we both hiss out in unison.

“Sergio, you always prove you owe me. You make me feel so full, so good.” Her words wrap around me like a vice, fueling the fire inside.

She bounces on me, nails digging into my chest, and I thrust into her hard. I know I could break free, but I won’t. The truth burns in my gut—Myia still owns me, and I crave her just as fiercely as she craves me.

“You are my greatest reward, Kitty. Damn, you feel so good.” I moan, lost in the moment.

Myia reaches her climax. It’s powerful; she has me like a vice as my cock jerks and pulsates, filling her. We both moan, calling out each other’s names.

“Shit, Sergio, you filled me up,” she pants, pulling me back to reality.

“I could go for round two,” I reply with a sly smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. I’m still trying to process the gravity of what is to come.

“Listen, Myia,” I said, my voice dropping to a serious tone, feeling the gravity of the moment settle between us.

“What is it?” she asked, concern etched across her face, her eyes searching mine for answers.

“I have to leave in two weeks to handle things. You’re going to a safe house with your family. I’m probably going to tell your dad about us tonight,” I admitted, pulling her close, desperate to shield her from the storm outside.

Her eyes widened, and I could see the worry pooling there. “I think you should wait. Get through this war first. I don’t want things tense between you two; you both need a clear head.” Her voice trembled slightly, and I felt my heart break at the sight of her misty eyes.

“You might be right,” I conceded, the weight of her words pressing heavily on my chest. “But we need to clean up and get you settled in the guest room. They’ll be here soon. It’s only for two days so that we can go over everything. Then you’ll be mine.” I leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both a promise and a plea.

As our lips parted, I searched her face, craving the comfort I found in her presence. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe,” I declared, my voice steady even as the turmoil inside me threatened to spill over.

She nodded, a mixture of determination and fear in her gaze. “I just want us to be okay. I need you to come back to me.”

“I’ll come back,” I vowed, the words tasting bittersweet. “We’ll figure this out together.”

My heart ached at the thought of leaving her, but I knew it was necessary. The war loomed over us like a dark cloud, demanding sacrifices that felt too heavy to bear.

“Let’s focus on what we can control right now,” I suggested, trying to lift the weight of uncertainty in the air. “We’ll prepare for your family’s arrival and make the most of our time together.”

A faint smile broke through her worry, and I felt a flicker of hope. “Okay. Just promise me we won’t let this war tear us apart.”

“Never,” I swore, wrapping my arms around her tightly. At that moment, I knew we had each other, and for now, that was enough to face whatever lay ahead.

I get an alarm, they are here.

Chapter Sixteen

Sergio:

I glance at Mav, my godson, who’s practically bouncing in his seat at the mention of pizza. It’s a simple plan but feels like a lifeline amidst the mess swirling in my head. My guilt gnaws at me, especially when it comes to Myia. We’re stuck in this awkward dance, pretending we’re just friends when every glance between us tells a different story.

“Yeah, let’s get some pizza,” I say, trying to keep my tone light. Mav’s enthusiastic nod makes me smile, even if it’s just for a moment.

Fiona and Mario are already chiming in with their drink orders, and I can see Myia’s eyes light up when she mentions we’re out of pop.

“I’ll have Salv pick some up,” I say, maybe a bit too brusquely. I catch Myia’s surprised look, knowing I came off harsh.

“Okay, someone’s in a mood,” she replies, keeping the vibe light, but I can sense the tension behind her words.

“When isn’t he?” Fiona adds, grinning at me. I can’t help but chuckle, shaking my head. It’s true, but I’m trying to manage my feelings while relaxing the atmosphere.

As I text Salv, I feel the weight of the moment. Mav lists his favorite toppings, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling around us. I look at Myia; her smile is genuine, but I can see the flicker of something more profound in her eyes.

“Let’s wrap this up,” I say, pushing the turmoil aside. “What do we want? Pepperoni? Veggies?”

“No veggies for me,” Myia suggests, leaning forward, her enthusiasm infectious.

“Perfect,” I reply, grateful for the distraction. Tonight is about family, laughter, and pizza, even if wrapped in layers of unspoken feelings. I remind myself to focus on the moment. For now, we’re all just enjoying each other’s company, and maybe that’s enough.

We were playing Uno when the door swung open, and there stood Salv, pizza in hand, with Elio and Sav right behind him, drinks at the ready. Elio had just returned from visiting his mom, and now he and Sav were about to be made men. The moment felt electric as if we were all holding our breath in anticipation.

I couldn’t shake the thought that I wished I could break all the rules. But they were born into this world, and my son was destined to be boss one day, with Sav as his underboss. It was decided for them, just as our positions had been decided.

Watching them, I felt a mix of pride and worry. They were stepping into a world that was both exciting and dangerous. The laughter and chaos of the game filled the room, but underneath it all, I could sense the weight of expectation hanging over them.

As they joked and teased each other, I hoped they could find a way to navigate this life on their terms, even if the rules were already written. They deserved a bit of fun amidst the seriousness of it all. The night was young; for now, we could forget the burdens ahead.

I glanced at the group, tension crackling in the air. “We have to handle some things after dinner with the boys,” I announced, trying to keep my tone steady.

Fiona shot back, her voice sharp. “My sweet boys won’t be so sweet. Why can’t you stop living by all the rules and let them stay young?” She never held back, always ready to speak her mind.

“Fiona, don’t meddle in the man’s world. You know the rules and how things have to be. You don’t need to involve yourself,” Mario’s voice was gravelly, a warning that hung heavy in the air.

“I have to mind my business when it comes to that part! It’s my business when we have to go to a safe house. Wait, those are still your guys’ commands. Don’t speak to me that way again!” Fiona shot back, her frustration boiling over.

“Fiona, not now,” Mario warned, his tone firm.

“Asshole, all of you,” she spat, the anger rolling off her in waves.

I felt the weight of their words settle like a stone in my stomach. “They will be safe,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. “I wish things were different. I wish I were a better man. The truth is, we’re messed up and live by the rules of this family.”

The reality of our situation hit hard. I could see the hurt in Fiona’s eyes, the way Mario clenched his jaw as if trying to hold back a flood of emotions. This wasn’t just about rules; it was about the lives we were trying to protect, the innocence we were forced to shatter.

“Don’t you want them to have a childhood?” Fiona’s voice softened, the fierce edge giving way to something more vulnerable.

“Of course I do,” I replied, my chest tightening. “But we’re in too deep. The world outside doesn’t care about their innocence. The rules keep them safe, even if it feels like a prison.”

“Maybe they don’t have to be,” she murmured, her gaze searching mine. “Can’t we find a way?”

As I pour another glass of wine, I can’t help but roll my eyes at the familiar chaos unfolding around the table. “No,” I say, trying to maintain a semblance of authority. “We can’t change the rules.”

Myia sighs dramatically, her eyes darting around as if searching for an escape. “I’ve had enough of this. Can we eat and act normal for one night?”

“Normal?” Fiona chuckles, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “When has this family ever been normal?”

Mario shakes his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “You fucking sure you do not have bipolar disorder?”

Fiona, ever the master of sarcasm, replies, “If I were normal, I wouldn’t be with a man like you. I am twisted like you, baby, and you love it.” Her playful tone, and I can see Mario trying to stifle a laugh.

“True, can’t be normal in this family. We’re all a little crazy,” Myia adds, glancing at me as if I’m the ringleader of this circus.

Elio, grinning ear to ear, chimes in, “We’re here for this shot, and Sav and I had two dates with Kail and Amy.” He leans back, clearly proud of himself.

“Fathers like sons,” Fiona says with a smile, raising her glass as if to toast our family’s delightful dysfunction.

I shake my head, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, well, at least we’re consistently crazy.” As the laughter and playful jabs continue, I realize that maybe, just maybe, this is our version of normal. And honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

This won’t be easy tonight, and things will be different. I have guilt for loving Myia for what my son and Sav have to become.

Chapter Seventeen

Sergio

I watch as they walk into the dimly lit room where two Russian men are tied to chairs, their faces pale and eyes wide. My son stands beside me, emotionless, while Salvatore fidgets, nervous energy radiating from him. I find my own heart steady; this is not unfamiliar territory. I remember Salv’s shaky hands back in the day. Now, he’s worse than I ever was.

The Russians sit in silence, their bravado waning. They declare themselves “no rats,” ready to face death with stoic resolve. But what do they know? They think they can withstand our methods. They’ve underestimated us. We could beat them, cut them, make them scream, but it would be a waste. Time is not on our side.

I turn to Elio, my voice calm yet firm. “Is this what you want? We can wait longer.”

He meets my gaze, a spark of fire igniting in his eyes. “I am ready for this, Papa. I was born to be the next king. I’ve waited for this day.”

The air thickens as I watch Elio, gun in hand, poised to strike. We have all the information we need; these men are filth, the kind who would violate innocence without a second thought. They think they can intimidate us and keep their secrets.

Elio’s finger tightens around the trigger, and time seems to freeze. The gunshot shatters the silence, a deafening roar that leaves no doubt. The bullet finds its mark, blood erupting from the man’s head like a macabre fountain.

“Good job, son,” I say, my voice steady with pride. “You are now a made man—part of the family.”

His eyes gleam with pride as he steps back beside me, a true Bianchi. “Si, it is an honor to be part of this with you, Papa.”

My brothers and Ace clap him on the back, sealing his initiation into our ruthless world. This is our life, our legacy. The power flows through us, unyielding and fierce. We are the rulers of our fate, and no one will take that from us.

“Salvatore, what about you?” I ask, my voice low and steady.

“I’m ready. This is our life. We were born Bianchi men, powerful as lions and rulers,” he replies, his confidence radiating from him. He sounds just like my brothers. I realize now that I underestimated him; he’s not nervous—he’s ready to embrace our world.

Now it’s Salvatore’s turn, and he levels the gun at the last man, whose eyes widen with terror. Before he can grasp what’s happening, Salvatore pulls the trigger, the loud pop echoing through the alley. The bullet strikes true, and the man falls, lifeless. Overwhelmed by the rush of adrenaline, Salvatore doubles over and heaves, the reality of his actions crashing down on him.

“Good job, son. You’re a made man now, part of the family,” I say, pride swelling in my chest as I pat him on the shoulder.

“Si, it is an honor to be part of this with you, Papa,” he replies, standing tall beside his father and me.

I see he is a little shaky, but his eyes tell another story. He is going to be a man you don’t want to cross.

“Just the adrenaline. Your Papa was the same way. Now he’s a ruthless fucker,” I offer a reassuring hand on his back.

“You did well, Sal,” Mario says, stepping closer to him with his hand on his shoulder. Our bond is stronger now, forged in blood and the harsh truth of our existence.

“Welcome to the family, Salvatore. You’re a made man now, and you’ll rule alongside Elio,” Ace adds with a grin.

In this moment, standing shoulder to shoulder with my brothers, I feel the power of our legacy. We are the Bianchi men, and we will carve our names into the fabric of this city with blood and strength. Together, we are unstoppable, and the world will know our name.

We are celebrating the boys’ initiation into the family, officially stepping into the chaos of our world. The missions, the jobs—they’re all part of it now. Salvatore stands tall, no longer the shaky kid I saw moments ago. As we walk towards the bar, I keep Elio close, sensing the weight of his smile; it’s a grin that sends shivers down my spine.

“That wasn’t so bad. They’ll fit right in,” Ace says, his smile wide, but I can’t shake my concern.

“Elio was fucking smiling,” I retort. “He looked like he enjoyed it.”

“I won’t worry,” Ace reassures me. I was like that, too. We all handle it differently. Inside, I was a mess, and I wanted to puke.” His words are meant to comfort me, but only deepen my unease.

I grab a drink, pouring a generous glass of amber liquid, feeling my emotions swirl—confusion, pride, fear. I watch as laughter and camaraderie fill the room, reminiscent of the night I had my first kill, the high of belonging washing over me. Yet, the memory is bittersweet; the thrill of that moment still haunts my conscience. I take a deep breath and light a joint, needing something to ground me.

“We have great men here,” Sal says, pride glimmering. I see Uncle Matteo helping Papa as they enter, and that same pride is evident as he pulls the boys into an embrace, whispering words of encouragement I can’t quite catch. His joy is infectious, but it doesn’t ease the weight on my chest.

“I’m a proud Nonno right now,” Papa laughs, reminiscing about when the boys were made men. “Salv was green. He hurled all over the place, sick for days.” The laughter rings out, but I can’t shake my discomfort.

“I’m sick of talking about me; I’m more ruthless than all you fuckers,” Salv shoots back, trying to assert his newfound power.

I can’t help but smirk at his bravado. But then I see them handing the boys a joint. I take a hit, feeling like a hypocrite for even doubting. I should be celebrating Elio’s ascent, yet his look during the initiation scares me. He reminds me too much of Mario, wild and unpredictable.

“What’s wrong with you, old man?” Mario asks, his grin childlike, oblivious to my turmoil.

“Elio had that smile, that look—you know it. My son might be a fucking sadist like you and Slav.” I shake my head, trying to brush off the dread.

“Sergio, I was sick; I enjoyed it too much. I worried I might be a monster. In truth, I don’t like it. We all repent after a mission or taking a life. I go a little crazy when it’s bastards who hurt the innocent. Elio will be fine, trust me. He’ll do great things.” Salv pats my back, handing me another drink.

“Same. I liked the rush; we repent for our sins. You have to be ruthless. We all

Stood where they are.” Mario says with a smile.

I take it, feeling the warmth spread through me, yet the unease lingers. We’re all bound by blood and shared sins, but the future is uncertain. I want to believe in Elio and trust that he’ll navigate this life with balance. But as I look around, I know the darkness is always just a heartbeat away, waiting to claim the unwary.

I take the drink, grabbing Elio by the shoulders.

“Now we have to do what my father and his father before him have done—what all dons and his brothers must do. We will take the oath of omertà, the code of silence. Then we will spill blood on a card with a skull on it. I stand in the middle; it’s time to initiate the men into the family officially.” I down my drink.

“Ora facciamo il giuramento di silenzio omertà. Verseremo sangue insieme, lo verseremo su questa carta e lo daremo fuoco. Guardatelo mentre si trasforma in the center.” I declare, my voice firm and commanding. Mario approaches with the card, knife, and lighter.

“Si, Elio e Salvatore farete il giuramento del silenzio. Omertà. Daremo il benvenuto ai nuovi giovani leoni nel nostro Branco. Mi rispetterete, perché il Don non mostra mai mancanza di rispetto. Ora, mostrateci la vostra lealtà mentre tagliate questo coltello nella vostra mano e lo fate versare sulla carta.”

“Si, Omertà.” They respond in unison, the gravity of the moment settling in.

I watch as Papa hands the knife to Elio. “As our future Don, you will go first. This is your pledge to the family and to one day become Don.”

“I accept. Know I was born to be the king of this empire. Omertà.” Elio says, gripping the knife and making the cut without flinching. Blood drips onto the card, marking his loyalty.

He turns to Salvatore, handing him the knife. “Do you accept being in the family, taking the oath, and being my future underboss?”

“Si, we will rule together. Omertà.” Salvatore makes his cut, blood joining Elio’s on the card.

I take the knife next, feeling the steel bite into my hand. My blood flows onto the card, and I pass it to Mario, who follows suit. One by one, we all make our cuts, our blood mixing on the card. I lean down and light it on fire, watching as it burns to ashes, our sacrifice consumed by the flames.

I smile, feeling a sense of relief and pride. These young men are the future of this family, the empire we’ve built. One day, I will pass this all to Elio, but first, he will learn the weight of power and the price of loyalty.

“Now, let’s party,” I say as I grab another drink.

They all raise their glasses, the energy in the room shifting to celebration. The cleanup crew is already here, so we can enjoy the night without worry. With laughter and camaraderie filling the air, I know we are bound together now, not just as a family, but as brothers in arms, united by the oath of omertà.

Chapter Eighteen

Myia.

Three months later

Things have been tense between Sergio and me since our fight last night. We’re back in California, trying to handle everything before it all explodes. He’s been working hard, preparing for a war, practicing twice a week for the safe house, while I feel like I’m just caught in the crossfire. The air is thick with tension, and I can’t shake the feeling that something terrible is about to happen.

My father still doesn’t know about us—he thinks I’m just working as Sergio’s assistant. I can’t help but wonder if he’s starting to piece things together or if he will soon. We must tell him, but that thought fills me with dread. Oliva showed up with Elio, and everything went to hell. I can still feel the anger surging through me as I slam the car door shut, the sound echoing in my ears.

Sergio grabs my hand tightly, but I want to pull away. I’m so frustrated.

“I told you this isn’t a good idea. Do you think she won’t tell my father? I’m not giving in to her demands! She tried to fight me, and you ran after her, leaving me in the dark!” My voice shakes with anger and hurt, tears threatening to spill.

“Nothing happened! I had to do damage control. I never touched her, Myia. I swear,” he says, his jaw clenched.

The door opens, and I nearly jump out of my skin. Elio stands there with wide eyes, looking between us. It feels like the room is closing in on me. Sergio pushes the numbers to unlock the door, motioning for us all to enter, and I know this is just the beginning of a confrontation I dread.

“Myia, you have some nerve going after a married man. He’s like family!” Oliva spits out with venom.

“I make him happy. He makes me happy. We’re in love. You were over long ago; you can’t take a man who doesn’t want to be taken.” I can feel the anger in my veins, my heart racing as I stare her down.

“You have some nerve talking to me like that,” Oliva says, cutting her eyes at me.

“I can handle my own. Let’s sit and talk before things get more heated.” I flash her a smile, but inside, I’m trembling.

“Enough!” Sergio says, his voice booming with authority.

We walk into the living room, and I sit, my heart pounding. Elio, excusing himself, feels like a fleeting breath of relief, but it’s short-lived. Sergio starts making drinks, and I down mine as soon as he hands it to me, the burn in my throat a welcome distraction. I’m sweating, feeling out of my element.

“We will be divorced by Monday. I won’t negotiate. We were separated when Myia and I started seeing each other,” Sergio states, his voice calm but firm.

“You’re an asshole, have your whore. Do you think he will stay faithful to you? You have a lot to learn, little girl,” Oliva hisses with venom.

“I know how to keep a man. I’m not a gold digger; I know how to love him, right? I’m more than enough.” I can’t help but grin at Oliva, seeing the anger in Sergio’s eyes, and I know I’m pushing it, but I don’t care.

“Knock it off, Myia. I’m in love with you. You had better remember what would happen if you told Mario. Don’t think I have to remind you,” he warns, his tone taking on a serious edge.

Oliva’s eyes mist over. “I fucking remember. You’re an asshole. Why didn’t you leave me years ago? You think you love her?”

I feel the weight of her words, the guilt creeping in. I was the one messing with a married man, and it made me question everything. I’m ready to fight, and my heart races as I hold my ground, but part of me wonders if I’m strong enough.

“Oliva, stop with this innocent act. You were with other people. You loved my money,” Sergio says, his voice dripping with bitterness. “You showed me your true colors.”

I wish I could shield Elio from this chaos. No child should have to hear their parents fight, and it breaks my heart to think of him caught in the middle. It makes me question more things: will he cheat on me? Will we fight in front of our kids? I grew up in a loving home, showered affectionately, and never wanted to subject a child to this kind of turmoil.

Then Oliva drops her bombshell. “Sergio, I want twenty million. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“Fifteen and this house, or you can move to Florida with your sister,” he replies, his tone unwavering.

“Fine. I fought so hard to keep you. I see I’ve hurt my son, and you may think I’m a shitty mom. I wasn’t the greatest, but I’ve tried over the last ten years. Myia, you’re a nice girl, but don’t let him fool you. My advice to you is to run.” Oliva stands tall, trying to mask the hurt as she walks out.

“I will see you on Monday. I have nothing more to say to you. I want nothing more than to never see you again after Monday,” Sergio says, his voice filled with disdain.

I feel a knot in my stomach, knowing Oliva is not done. She’s a scorned woman now, and I can sense the turmoil isn’t over.

“We have to tell my dad,” I say, my voice harsh, cutting through the tension.

“We will,” Sergio shrugs as if it’s no big deal, but it feels monumental.

“Papa, I’m going to Mom’s. I wish this had happened a long time ago. Myia, I accept you,” Elio says with a warm smile.

“I’m sorry, son.” Sergio looks defeated, and my heart aches for him.

“Si, I know. I am good. Love you.” Elio says. He nods. I wave goodbye.

“I am exhausted from last night and today. We fought all night. I do not want another fight,” Sergio says, sounding tired.

“Let’s go shower, and then we can really talk.” I offer a small smile.

I am done.

Chapter Nineteen

Sergio

Myia’s eyes looked tired, frustration and vulnerability swirling within them. “Do you want this with me?”

“I want it all with you,” I replied, feeling the weight of my guilt pressing down on me. “I’m sorry for being an asshole, for fighting with you, for leaving you like I did. I had to calm her down.”

My mind was racing as I recalled our conversation about the divorce. Elio was there, too, sharing his feelings. It hit me hard—this constant fighting took a toll on everyone involved, especially him. I buried my face in my hands, overwhelmed. This same fight for two days was exhausting.

“What did Oliva mean when she said it would be like Vedda?” Myia asked, her curiosity cutting through the tension.

I took a deep breath, the memories flooding back. “Vedda was my ex-girlfriend from ten years ago. I had feelings for her, but stopped seeing her when things got intense. I want you to know it was always you. I love you.” I reached for her face, kissing her softly, hoping to bridge the gap between us.

“All I needed to know,” Myia said, her voice softening as if ready to move past the fighting. It was a small victory, but it felt like the first step toward healing. We both wanted to break this cycle, to find a way to be together without the shadows of the past looming over us.

“I am tired and need to sleep,” I say, standing up.

I needed to shower alone, to shake off the weight of the day and prepare for whatever storm was coming. My thoughts circled Myia; she would be my breakfast, my reason to get through this. I walked into the bathroom and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror—disheveled, tired, and looking like shit.

I slipped out of the bathroom, headed to my office, and poured myself a whisky. The amber liquid slid down my throat, burning away the chaos in my mind. “I fucked up,” I thought, but I had no regrets. My mind raced with the idea of calling Mario.

I hit send, and his phone rang.

“What’s up?” Mario said, his voice cheerful, oblivious to the storm between us.

“Mario, I am in love with Myia—”

He cut me off, venom lacing his words. “You’re what? Did I fucking hear you say you’re in love with my baby girl? You better be fucking with me.”

“I’m not. I want her to move in with me. It happened. Hate me, come fucking fight me. I’ll deal with the consequences.” My voice was harsh, unwavering.

“I’m going to fucking kill you. I’m coming for you. I might kill you, or you kill me.” The phone clicked, leaving a piercing silence hanging in the air.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, expecting his reaction. He was a man of his word, and now I was staring down the gun barrel. This wouldn’t help Myia; it would only drag her deeper into the chaos. I poured another drink, the whisky dulling the edges of my thoughts.

Just then, the door swung open. Myia stormed in, her face a mask of fury. “You had no right to say anything without discussing it with me first! Papa is on his way! Fiona said he’s got the jet ready. He wants to kill you! I’m caught in the middle of two men I love—two very fucking dangerous men!”

Her words hit me like a slap, but anger bubbled up inside. “I don’t care about your father’s threats!” I roared. “I’m in love with you, Myia! Please move in with me. This isn’t just some game; I’m done hiding!”

She took a step back, the hurt flashing across her face. “What if I lose you? I don’t want to be the reason for a bloodbath!”

Then let it be me!” I shot back, the heat of my anger rising.

“You’re reckless. You should have waited. This is not the right time. You know him; he will be here,” Myia says with worry.

“Would we talk and sit by a fire, singing Kumbaya songs? This is a man’s world in this life, Kitty. We played a dangerous game, and now we face it. I don’t fear your father or any man. This is not your worry, ” I say harshly.

“Asshole, I am packing,” he says, walking away.

---

I’ve been sitting in the living room waiting for the storm.

I could feel the tension in the air as the alarm blared, announcing his arrival. I descended the stairs, adrenaline surging, ready for the confrontation.

There he stood, a storm of fury, accompanied by Ace. In an instant, Mairo threw a punch, connecting with my jaw. Pain shot through me, but I was fueled by rage. I countered with three quick hits to his face, both of us bleeding and panting, locked in this primal dance.

He landed a blow to my ribs, knocking the wind from me. I retaliated with a roundhouse kick, watching him bend over, gasping for air. The fury between us was palpable; each blow was a testament to our shared history—brotherhood turned to rivalry in a heartbeat.

“Stop. Or you both will lose me!” Myia’s voice cut through the chaos, commanding and desperate. We froze, bloodied and breathless, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air.

“Why, you fucking asshole? My baby girl!” Mario spat, his voice strained. I could see the hurt in his eyes, which twisted something deep within me.

“I fell in love. You know me—I would never hurt her. She’s different. When she walks into a room, I lose my breath. Her smile lights up the darkness; my heart skips a beat.” Each word felt like a dagger, both revealing and exposing my vulnerabilities.

“Myia, why? You want to move and be with him?” Mario asked, struggling through his pain.

“Yes, you both are important to me. Don’t let this change your relationship. I love him. We didn’t mean for it to happen. If it makes you feel better, he hasn’t even touched me. Not yet. He respects me.” Her words felt like a shield, protecting me even as they cut deeper.

She lied that she had touched her. I get why she’s lying.

I was reeling, pain radiating through my ribs. I needed to sit, the world spinning around me as I found a spot on the floor. Mario joined me, both of us battered and bruised. Ace stepped forward, saying he’d call a doctor, but I couldn’t shake the fear of losing Mario as a brother.

“You fucking broke my ribs,” Mario coughed, and even in his pain, there was a glimmer of understanding. “I’ll give you a chance. Please don’t hurt her, or I will end you risk my own life. It’ll take me time to understand why you both had to lick each other. I heard you move her.”

“My ribs are shattered, I’m sure. But I won’t back down. I plan to stay with her until my last breath. I would burn the world down for her,” I replied, feeling the weight of my declaration, even as darkness threatened to pull me under.

“Sounds like love. You both have my blessing,” he finally said, his voice heavy with acceptance.

“Thank you, papa. I love you both,” Myia said, her happiness lighting up the room, even amidst the chaos.

At that moment, amidst the blood and pain, I felt a flicker of hope. This was only the beginning, and I was ready to fight for what I wanted—for her, for us.

“The doctor is here. I don’t know what the fuck to say. This could have gone differently.” Ace says, shaking his head.

We fucked each other up We wanted blood.

Chapter Twenty

Sergio

Two Months later:

I watch Myia emerge from the water, her body glistening in the sunlight, a breathtaking sight that makes my heart race. She looks like a model, effortlessly stunning without any of the airbrush bullshit. I can’t help but wink at her; the way she blushes is adorable; we do not have a lot of dark stuff, but she still shows innocence. Good news, Mario and I are good.

“You seem happy,” Papa says, reassuring me on the back.

“Si, I love her with my fucking soul,” I say, the truth pouring out of me. It feels good to admit it, even if the weight behind those words is heavy.

“I see that. Sergio, promise me you’ll take care of Ma,” he says, his voice strained as he coughs. I feel a knot tighten in my stomach.

“Si. You’re acting like you’re leaving us, old man,” I reply, forcing a smile. But deep down, I know he’s getting worse, and the thought of losing him gnaws at me.

As we prepare to fly back to Sicily, I can’t take my eyes off Myia. She’s radiant, and I can’t resist pulling her close when she walks over to me. The heat between us is electric. I lean in and steal a kiss, feeling her soft lips melt against mine.

“I’m going to help Fiona with dinner. Anything special you want?” she asks, her confidence shining through.

“Surprise me,” I say, giving her a playful slap. How she looks at me makes my pulse quicken; I love how we can play like this.

After a day by the pool, we gathered around the table filled with incredible Italian food. Myia sits next to me, her scent—Vanilla citrus—driving me wild. I inhale deeply, savoring both the food and her presence.

“I made this food. I told Fiona I wanted to show you I can cook. I also made the dessert; they helped,” she says proudly, and how her eyes light up makes my heart swell.

“It’s delicious; you’ll make a good wife,” I whisper in her ear, the words slipping out before I can think. Myia’s smile widens, and her hand finds my thigh, sending a jolt of desire through me.

As dessert is served—cakes, cupcakes, an assortment of sweets—I take a little of everything. Feeding her bites off my fork, each soft moan she lets out sends heat flooding through me, stirring something profound inside.

“I see you do love my daughter; that makes me happy her mom would have accepted right away you know her,” Fiona says, mist over her eyes.

“I miss her; I know being happy is what she wants for us all,” Myia adds, and I hear the pain in her voice. I instinctively rub her back, wishing I could take away her hurt.

“I know one thing; I meant every word—beat friend or brother, you hurt her, I will take you down. Mario chimes in with a smug smile.

“You can try, old man,” I shoot back, matching his challenge with a grin

We are leaving after dinner. Mario and Fiona are staying to run things.

---

As we say our goodbyes, I can feel the bittersweet weight of family and love surrounding us. But as I glance at Myia, I know she’s why I’ll fight for our happiness.

With Ace flying in the other jet with my brother and Luna, I brace myself for what lies ahead. But for now, holding Myia’s hand, I feel an undeniable connection between us—a bond that makes me want to protect, cherish, and build a future together. Whatever challenges come our way, I’ll face them head-on because she’s my everything.

“I am pregnant.” The words hang in the air, and my heart races. I’m hit with a wave of shock that leaves me momentarily speechless.

“Pregnant? When did you find out? Are you sure?” My mind races with questions, the reality of everything crashing down on me.

“I’m sure. Four home tests were positive, and the OBGYN confirmed it. I’m eight weeks,” she says, her smile a mixture of pride and nervousness.

“You should have told me sooner so I could be there with you,” I say, my tone harsher than intended.

“I wanted to surprise you. Don’t be an asshole,” she snaps back, her eyes cutting into me.

I can’t help but chuckle, trying to ease the tension. “I can’t handle pregnant hormones. I’ve been there.”

“Fuck off,” she retorts, but I notice the way her lips curve slightly, fighting back a smile.

In that moment, the reality of becoming a father again washes over me. I feel a surge of protectiveness and love for her and the little one growing inside her. Whatever challenges lie ahead, I know I want to face them with her.

“We’ll set up the OBGYN and get everything we need. My kids will be seventeen years apart.” I shake my head, feeling the weight of the years since I last cared for a baby.

“Don’t act so surprised; we knew this would happen. We practically planned it,” Myia says, her tone light and confident.

As the plane begins its descent into Sicily, I can’t help but glance out the window, watching the vibrant landscapes come into view. The rolling hills and sparkling Mediterranean Sea contrast sharply with the whirlwind of thoughts in my mind.

Seventeen years’ age gap.

Talk about starting over.

I have a war.

Bloodbath. I have so much going on.